


Soft Voices, Gentle Hands

by vanityofvanities



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: 3rd person subjective narration, Aftercare, D/s, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, POV Fenris, Submissive Fenris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 15:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3493928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanityofvanities/pseuds/vanityofvanities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris and Hawke enjoy the afterglow.</p><p>
  <em>A gentle fingertip tapped a light, senseless rhythm down the column of Fenris’ spine. He hummed contentedly into the pillow, his eyes still closed and his body still lax, as Hawke’s soft, percussive touches against his skin turned into a directionless trailing of her hand over his lower back.<em></em></em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Voices, Gentle Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: Implications of past non-con.

A gentle fingertip tapped a light, senseless rhythm down the column of Fenris’ spine. He hummed contentedly into the pillow, his eyes still closed and his body still lax, as Hawke’s soft, percussive touches against his skin turned into a directionless trailing of her hand over his lower back. The contact was nearly without pressure, but he felt her acutely against his sensitized skin. Repetitiously, she swept her fingertips from one hip to the other, her touch feeling cool against the redness that she had brought to the surface of his skin. He felt it still, hot and buzzing in the flesh of his ass and upper thighs, where Hawke had slowly coaxed blood to the surface with strikes of her palm that brought his nerves blazing into life. There’d be no bruises left behind, no marks to suggest pain or suffering. Fenris never suffered under Hawke’s touch. She was always careful to take her time, slowly awakening a fire beneath his skin and coaxing it into a warm glow that sparked but never burned.

It wasn’t like it had been before. It was so different a thing, to give himself to someone he could trust. So different to succumb to someone who would not abuse their control of him. To give himself as a gift to someone he loved, someone who would value what he gave.

Hawke pressed her lips to his shoulder, her palm resting flat against the base of his spine. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her breath warm against his sweat-slick skin. She kissed his shoulder again, her lips relaxed and her tongue just barely dipping to taste the salt of his skin. Fenris’ face was turned away from her, still half-buried in the downy cushion of the pillow, so his smile was entirely for himself. Hawke’s voice always took on a tone of slight wonderment afterwards, so stark a contrast from the firm authority that preceded it. Her voice, whatever the inflection, grounded him, reminding him that he was safe and cherished. “So perfect,” she continued in a reverent whisper. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

Fenris’ shoulders shook once with a lazy chuckle. “I asked _you_ , Hawke.”

As she nuzzled fondly into the curve of his neck, he could feel her smile. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be appreciative.”

Fenris let out another amused huff. “By all means, appreciate away.”

“Oh, I _will_ ,” she said, snuggling in close to his side. Fenris, his muscles already relaxed and loose, sunk deeper into the mattress as Hawke slung her thigh over the back of his legs, curling her body over his. As she continued to pepper uninterrupted kisses against whatever skin happened to be near her lips at the moment, Hawke wrapped her arm around him, pulling him tight to the warmth of her body. Fenris sighed, feeling the heat between her legs press against him. If he had had anything left in him, he might have felt aroused by the proximity, but, as it was, he felt only a faint rising of the pleasurable buzz that was still stirring through his blood. “I appreciate this more than you could know,” Hawke breathed, her fingernails raking languidly against his shoulder. “Feeling how much you trust me, how much you’ll give….” Her teeth found his ear, nipping with almost imperceptible pressure against the pointed shell. “You’re so perfect, so good for me.”

A low sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, rumbled through Fenris’ chest. With the soothing warmth of her body against him and the comforting weight of her body draped over his back, he felt himself easing deeper into the languorous haze that followed exertion. Soon, he knew, sleep would drag him under, but, for the time being, he fought against its pull. He wanted to savor Hawke’s fond caresses and the words of praise she exhaled against his skin.

“You don’t know what it does to me, seeing you like that.” She spoke quietly, her words flowing in a steady stream that seemed to come from her without much thought or deliberation. In the afterglow, she became easy and unguarded in a way she only ever was with Fenris. There was a thrill in knowing that she was more open, more exposed, with him than she had ever been before. She said whatever crossed her mind, touched him ceaselessly as though that contact was the only thing that could keep her anchored. “I didn’t know that there could be anything as beautiful as when you’re there, holding yourself on your hands and knees. On our bed. _Ours_. Maker, I love that word. I love it when the boundaries of yours and mine break down. When I’m yours, and you’re mine, and the lines between us blur into nothingness.”

She placed a lingering kiss to the nape of Fenris’ neck, her hand leaving his shoulder as she began to stroke her fingertips over his back once more. “You hold yourself so still, waiting for me to touch you, but I can always see how impatient you are. Your shoulders shake as you hold yourself up, your arms tense, and your whole body flushes before I can even start.” Hawke rolled the heel of her hand lightly into the taut muscles that ran alongside his spine, drawing out a groan from Fenris’ throat. Rubbing gently at places he hadn’t even known were sore, Hawke added tenderly, “I love that I can see how strong you are. The muscles that flex beneath your skin. You’re strong enough to do whatever you like to me. I never forget that. I never forget that you’re in control.” Her voice fell lower, barely audible if it had not been spoken against the tender spot just behind his ear. “I hope you never forget that either.”

Fenris clenched his eyes shut tightly for a moment, feeling a sort of thickness rising in his throat. “I know,” he said, a little roughly.

“Good.” Her fingers were in his hair, brushing it away from his face as Hawke propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at him. Conscious of her gaze, Fenris opened one of his eyes, turning his head just enough that he was able to look back at her. When he did, she smiled. “How are you feeling?” 

She always asked. After every time, she asked. It wasn’t so ridiculous a question, really. Sometimes, after the initial rush died down, he was left feeling raw, frayed. Sometimes, he needed her to remind him that there was nothing wrong in needing this. He needed her voice to tell him what he already knew: that this was different. That surrendering willingly was not the same thing as defeat.

Fenris lifted himself away from the bed, rolling onto his back and pulling Hawke close to his chest in one fluid motion. She laughed at the abruptness of it, but adjusted quickly, settling comfortably against him. Fenris snaked an arm under her, wrapping around the small of her back, and pulled her closer until their legs tangled together and her head was pillowed on his chest. “I’m fine, Hawke,” he assured her, his lips pressing to her hair. “You were… it was….” Words failed him and he let out a shuddering sigh, searching for an accurate way to finish that sentence. “It was exactly what I wanted.” She looked up at him, the soft smile returning to her lips as he stroked his hand fondly over her hair.

“I’m glad,” she said, laying her head back down against his pectoral and closing her eyes. Fenris watched her face for a moment longer, as her expression grew lax with her readiness for sleep. He wished that he had her same easiness with words. That he could tell her how fortunate he felt to have someone that he could trust with all his desires. How glad he was that she was that person. He wished that he could adequately express how safe, and loved, and warm he felt with her.

But there were no words, or, if there were, he couldn’t find them. So, he’d settle for showing her. In all the ways he could imagine, he would show her. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to make my way through an alphabet of kinks. This one's for A: Aftercare. Runners-up were: anal play/anal sex, awkward sex, angry sex, anniversaries, and arguments. Just in case anyone wanted to try to do their own kinky alphabet. I dunno.


End file.
